Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Epilogue

Book 2: Epilogue

On the outskirts of Tropica, Lieutenant Colonel Lemony Thicket's canopy shook in anticipation.

Most of her friends were on a mission far, far away. It was the perfect opportunity.

Master will be so happy, she thought as the image of his grin passed through her awareness.

Lemon had been storing energy and waiting for the perfect chance to strike, and her core vibrated with excitement now that the moment was here. Ever since she had contacted the child beneath the ground, they had remained in contact.

That alien being, so similar yet so different to herself, had been hesitant at first. Though filled with curiosity, it had kept Lemon at a limb's length, not ever letting her get too close. Over time, Lemon had kept feeding it a steady trickle of chi, and with each morsel it consumed, it lowered its guard.

When it felt how excited Lemon was, it sent a message.

Excitement? it seemed to ask. Why?

Growth, Lemon replied. Growth. Growth. Growth.

Taking one last measure of the power she had accumulated, Lemon deemed it worthy. She sent a portion down through her mighty roots, offering it up to the baby tree spirit. It was only a fraction of the chi she'd set aside, yet when the child felt it, it recoiled and crawled back into its protective tree, pushing away Lemon's offering.

As she continued radiating reassurance, she withdrew most of the offering and left only a taste for the child to consider. It came from the back of its safe space, and with a trepidatious bite, it tasted the chi. Through their bond, Lemon felt its curiosity grow.

... Delicious, it sent.

Yes, Lemon agreed. "Delicious. Good. Growth."

The spirit considered that for a long moment. Eventually, it replied with a weak pulse, Fear.

Lemon had been too exuberant with her initial offering; it had made the child wary.

Sorry, she said, breaking off an even smaller portion and trickling it down to the spirit.

She could practically see the child hesitating on the edge of its domain. Despite having been in contact with Lemon for months, it still didn't trust her. It was a sentiment Lemon well understood. She, too, was a tree spirit. Their lifespans were measured in the thousands of years—what were a few months? Both before and after her hibernation, Fischer was the only person Lemon had ever truly trusted. She had faith in those that Fischer called friends, but that was only because they had earned his trust.

If the child had been too accepting, Lemon would have thought it an imbecile.

While she pondered, the child slowly crept from its den.

***

In the tree spirit's estimation, life was a good thing.

Before, there had been nothing. Now, there was something. Something was probably better than nothing.Unfortunately for the tree spirit, existence meant one could want. And there was only one thing it wanted: for the leaves of its tree to feel the sun.

It had never seen the sun, yet it knew what it was. The sun was a provider of life, and its tree would be much happier if it was beneath its warming rays. Happy tree, happy life… right?

The tree spirit thought so.

Still, things weren't so bad. It was safe within its tree's mighty trunk. It even had a companion, one which seemed much older and more aware of the world. They talked sometimes. Mostly, though, they were just… there. The companion was always connected and giving the tree spirit power. The spirit thought it could trust the other, but just like the tree spirit knew the sun existed, it knew there was no sense in rushing things. Though glad for the companionship, it wasn't about to follow its companion's every beck and call.

When the companion had started buzzing with excitement and sent down an overwhelming amount of power, the tree spirit had retreated.

Sorry, its companion had said, but it wasn't necessary.

The tree spirit hadn't recoiled because its companion had offered too much; it had recoiled because the offering had tasted delicious.

Too delicious.

It left the tree spirit wanting more. Wanting to suck up every drop its companion offered. It was a scary compulsion. Before, it had only wanted sun for its tree. That was... natural. Trees liked the sun, and tree spirits liked happy trees. This hunger, though...

Its companion sent down a soothing feeling that seemed to say sorry again.

Perhaps another taste wouldn't be so bad. It sent its awareness down toward where its companion's root sat. It could feel the power. Could almost taste it.

Just a little more would be okay... wouldn't it?

Before the tree spirit could second guess itself, it drank some in.

Delicious.

It. Was. Delicious. Just as good as last time. Better, even.

Its companion offered up a little more, and the spirit tree drank it. The offering slowly grew, eventually getting as wide as a river.

A river...? the spirit wondered.

How long had it known what a river was? It... oh.

It wasn’t just delicious power the spirit was drinking in; it also absorbed knowledge.

Its companion continually increased the amount of chi coming through, and the tree spirit accepted every drop. Before long, it had increased by an order of magnitude—which was also a fun new term the tree spirit now knew. No matter how much chi came through, the tree spirit accepted every drop. Before long, it got the sensation that some of the chi should be put to use.

With but a thought, the thick gouts of chi poured from its body.

The roots of the spirit's tree shot down into the soil, winding their way ever deeper as they grew. Its roots found pockets of water, spots of nutrients, and even odd channels of chi that ran under the earth. The tree spirit ate some of the chi; they were okay, but nowhere near as delicious as that offered by its companion.

The torrent of power coming through increased again, and the spirit channeled it into the tree's trunk. With a roar of creaking timber, its stronghold grew. The tree shot up faster than was natural, and within seconds, it scraped the roof.

Well, that's no good, the spirit thought.

There was still so much chi being sent its way. Too much, in fact. It should probably stop absorbing it all. Tell its companion to slow the offering. In response, the tree made its thoughts known.

It wanted to keep growing. It wanted to grow its canopy wider than any other tree. It wanted to feel the sun.

Making the spirit equivalent of a shrug, the spirit let it be so.

The entire room shuddered as the tree reached the ceiling and wood punched against stone. Then, the spirit had an idea: it grew a root from the canopy. The root, as thin as a hair, found a crack in the ceiling. It corkscrewed into the stone and kept on going, forcing its way through until it found earth. Stone cracked and soil parted as the root paved the way.

The trunk followed its passage, growing wider at the base as it grew ever taller.

Other beings ran into the room the tree spirit had occupied since gaining awareness. It had never known what they were before, but now it did. They were humans, and they stood witness to the tree's growth.

Abruptly, the root breached the surface, and for the first time in its short life, the spirit tasted open air. Its companion seemed to sense the spirit's emotions, because the second the root’s tip was free of the earth, the river of chi became an ocean. Its companion forced chi through, and the spirit redirected every last bit of it. The earth quaked, and large chunks of ceiling fell to the floor, making the humans flee the room.

But the spirit had no mind for them. All of its attention was on the trunk's growth as it pushed tonnes of earth aside and found the open air. Its trunk twisted high into the sky, its branches extending and leaves unfurling into a wide canopy.

The tree spirit looked out through the leaves.

A crescent moon was high in the sky above, bathing the surrounding landscape in an ethereal light. There was no sun, yet the outside world was even more beautiful than the spirit had imagined.

It breathed deep of the salty air, relishing the freedom its tree had gained.

***

Within the capital city of a foreign land, a man waited.

He checked the time piece around his neck for what had to be the hundredth time that night.

Thirty minutes since the last blast, he thought.

It was time to go.

He crept down the stairs of his rented abode, avoiding the three steps that creaked. He paused at the door, took a steadying breath, and opened it. The hinge was silent; he'd oiled it just in case. As he closed the door behind him, he felt one last pang of regret for the gold he was leaving behind. A prince's ransom worth of coins, hard earned with how far he had traveled to sell his wares. It was no good, though.

They would only weigh him down on his journey.

The man's heart thundered in his chest as he scanned the street beyond. It was eerily silent, even the bugs and night birds having gone completely silent after the series of blasts that had rocked the city. He took each step with great care as he slunk along in the shadows until movement on a building's gutter to his left caught his attention, and the call of two creatures shattered the silence. In a blur, the man unsheathed a dagger from his waist and drew it back, preparing to fight.

When he saw the creatures, he paused, his pulse thumping in his ears.

Two seagulls sat on the roof. They screamed at each other, each standing tall and posturing for dominance. The man shook his head, lowering the throwing knife but not sheathing it.

What in Poseidon's blessed waters are two seagulls doing this far from the ocean? he wondered.

There was no point in silence if the bird-brained creatures were going to scream at each other, so he abandoned his stealth.

He slipped through the light of a crescent moon, crossing a street and entering the alley he'd find his exit in. When he reached the sewer grate, he removed the lock he'd previously cut. Placing it in his pocket, he began descending into the sewer, but paused, taking one last look at the city.

The capital city of Gormona was a surprisingly beautiful place, considering how primitive the kingdom was. It was a relic of a time long passed, a monument to the powerhouse it had once been. When the man caught sight of the castle, his breath caught. A hole had been blown in the side of it that was large enough to reveal three floors. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t caused by mortals.

The man slipped into the sewer and quickly replaced the grate, sealing himself within.

The stink of human waste was pungent, but it was nothing compared to his duty. He climbed down the metal rungs in pitch darkness, landed on the walkway, and took off running alongside the river of filth.

He had to get home and warn them.